Fred and His Twin
by YaoiReaderGalor
Summary: No one is calling George's name anymore. They always call for Fred. They call him Fred; they call Fred Fred. George feels he is an afterthought - the less important of the twins. What will Fred do when he finds out this is what George thinks of himself? Will George sink into depression? NOT EDITED


**The twins will forever hold a special place in my heart.**

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George followed his brother down the stairs for their usual late breakfast. The smell of bacon and biscuits permeated the house and caused his stomach to rumble.

"Hungry Georgie?" Fred grinned back at him, teasing him for his enthusiastic belly.

"No more than yourself!" laughed George as Fred's own stomach growled. Fred scowled at his midsection, and his twin pushed past him. It was obvious by the way George had picked up speed and glanced back mischievously at his brother that he wanted a race. Well, if it was a race Georgie wanted, Fred was happy to oblige.

Somewhere halfway down the race had turned into a wrestling match and both of them fell in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Fred leaped to his feet and lunged for the finish line: the kitchen table, but smacked back to the floor when George grabbed onto a foot.

"Fred! BOYS! Enough of that! Sit at the table and eat like the civilized young men I tried to raise," Mrs. Weasley shouted at them from the sink where she was washing up the early birds in the family's breakfast plates.

"Are you saying we're not civilized? That's –" started Fred.

"The most flattering thing anyone has ever said to us," finished George as he and his twin took seats and started eating from the ready-made plates in front of them.

"Hush, Fred," Mrs. Weasley said, glaring at George. George felt a pang in his chest. Usually, it wouldn't bother him that people were mistaking him for his twin, but no one had said his name in the past couple days. It was starting to hurt a little. Even if he was just going to get yelled at, he'd like to be recognized.

After breakfast, the Weasley family went to Diagon Alley. Once the last of the family stumbled out of the fire place at The Leaky Cauldron, Mrs. Weasley gave out instructions. "You may split up into groups, but meet me back here at four o'clock. Understand?" George visibly perked up at this. The family gave their consenting nods and they were off.

"Want to go take a look around Knockturn Alley?" George asked Fred.

"Once again, we have the same thought dear brother of mine," said Fred, and the both made a ninety degree turn towards the entrance of Knockturn Alley.

They were both yanked backwards by their shirt collars. "Oh, no, you don't," said their father's voice. They turned around to stare into their dad's face which was now on eye level with the twins thanks to their recent growth spurt. "I knew you'd go off and get yourselves into trouble. If you don't want to be babied all afternoon, holding your mother's hand, you will stay away from Knockturn Alley."

They grumbled under their breath but walked in the other direction from the alley. George spun around as a thought came to him. "Dad?" he called to his still watching father. Arthur straightened a bit to show he was listening. "Can we borrow some galleons?"

"'Borrow?' You mean you're actually going to give them back?" He seemed amused at the very thought.

"Sure we will! When our joke shop hits it big we'll even pay you back with interest!" George said and Fred grinned beside him.

"Ha! Won't fall for that, Fred!" said their dad. George's smile faded a bit. "You boys will have to entertain yourselves without gold for today." With that Arthur turned around and headed after his wife.

Fred looked at his brother, concerned about the expression on his face. It seemed frustrated and something else Fred couldn't put a finger on "Georgie? You okay?"

George faced his twin and twisted his lips in an unconcerned smile. "Of course! Just disappointed we won't have any coins to spend. Let's go check out the Owl Emporium."

They toured the whole of Diagon Alley two times, balancing book on their heads and trying to walk until they were kicked out of Florish and Blotts and even playing an elaborate game of hide and chase with the whole Alley as their battle ground. Finally it was three fifty, and they started making their way back to The Leaky Cauldron.

"Fred! Hey, Fred!" called a female voice which turned out to be Kattie Bell, their fellow Griffyindor Quiditch player. "How are you?" Katie beamed up at Fred.

"Great! Are you shopping for school too?" Fred asked.

"Yep! I guess that's what you two are doing too." She glanced at George before giving her attention back to Fred. "Have you seen the new Defence Against the Dark Arts' books? They look horrible! I hope the professor doesn't actually use them."

"No, we haven't actually been helping with the shopping," said George.

"but we'll take your word for it," said Fred.

A voice in the crowd called out "Katie!" and their friend said goodbye before stealing off into the crowd. Katie called back to them, "See you at school Fred!" and as if she just remembered he was there "and you George!"

Katie hadn't spared the time of day for him. It reminded him of his father and mother earlier that day. Sure they talked to him, but they were really talking to Fred. It seemed like everyone preferred Fred over George – like it wasn't 'Fred and George' but 'Fred and his twin'. Like George was an afterthought. George's eyes widened and sadness welled up inside him. That wasn't true. It couldn't be true. People liked him as well for being George not for being Fred. But, why did people – his own family – insist on always calling for Fred and not George?

"Fred!" Ginny called them over where she and Ron were standing by the back entrance of The Leaky Cauldron. George's throat tightened. She had referred to the both of them as 'Fred' as if there wasn't a 'George' too.

"Georgie?" Fred nudged him in the ribs.

"Come on, we've only got a minute left until four. I wouldn't put it past mum to ground us if we're five seconds late," George picked up his pace. He was probably just imagining things.

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